Kate Hoffmann - Dodging Cupid's Arrow

Without his kiss, every sensation he created with his hands was more powerful, more deeply experienced, touching the very center of her soul. She wanted to tear her clothes off, and his, as well. And like the clothes they wore to protect against the cold, they'd been trapped under layers and layers of misunderstanding. She wanted to strip all that away, to find the real man beneath, alive with desire and vulnerable to her touch.

She reached out and unzipped his parka, then drew her hand along the front of his shirt. But when she moved to unfasten the top button, he stopped her, taking hold of her hand and bringing it to his lips.

He kissed her palm and each of her fingertips, then allowed her hand to drop to her side. "I'd better go," he murmured with a smile of regret.

"You-you don't have to go," Perrie said.

"Yes, I do. We just became friends, sweetheart. We can't become lovers in the same night." With that, he turned and opened the door, then walked out into the frozen night.

Perrie stood in the doorway, shivering in the cold, watching him make his way up to the lodge. When the frigid air finally cleared her senses, she began to realize what had passed between them. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. And the next time they were together, they would become lovers.

Perrie wrapped her arms around herself, a shudder of anticipation coursing through her limbs. For the first time since she'd arrived in Alaska, she didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay here at the lodge and learn what she already believed-that Joe Brennan would be an incredible lover.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

Perrie looked around the room at each of the brides. First Linda, who considered her question with great seriousness. Then Mary Ellen, whose dreamy look predicted a romantic, movie-inspired answer. And then Allison, whose idea of love probably changed as often as the weather.

The brides' cabin reflected the full glory of tomorrow's holiday. Bouquets of hothouse flowers decorated nearly every surface, and Perrie had learned that one of the bush pilots had made a special run to an Anchorage florist to fill all the orders from the town's bachelors.

Boxes of candy littered the coffee table, and other gifts and tokens of affection were scattered about the room. The brides were scheduled to go back home at the end of the month, and the competition for permanent companionship was heating up. After the Muleshoe Games, Perrie predicted that there would be a number of proposals made to each of the girls, though she wasn't sure whether they'd accept.

"I don't know if there's any way to explain it," Linda said. "I guess you just know when you know."

"Bells will go off inside your head," Mary Ellen said. "You'll feel all tingly and shaky and you'll see stars. Angels will sing."

Allison groaned. "That only happens in the movies, silly. The way I see it, it's possible to love almost any man, if you really want to."

"You mean if he's handsome enough, he doesn't wipe his nose on his sleeve, and he has enough money to keep you happy?" Linda asked.

Allison grinned. "That sums it up quite nicely."

"But there must be more," Perrie said. "I can't believe so many people in this world have fallen in love and they haven't written these things down somewhere."

"Is this for the story," Linda asked, "or are you interested for personal reasons?"

"For the story," Perrie lied, but she could tell Linda saw right through her. "All right. I may need the information in order to evaluate my growing feelings toward an… acquaintance."

"Hawk or Joe?" Allison asked. "And if you say Burdy, I'm going to scream."

"It's Joe. Although both Hawk and Burdy have been perfect gentlemen, sweet and accommodating, I seem to find myself attracted to the resident scoundrel. The man has dated every single woman in Alaska, he delights in making my life miserable, and he has absolutely no concern for my career." Perrie paused to reconsider what she was about to say. "And I think that-against all common sense-I might be in love with him."

They had spent nearly every minute together since their night with the northern lights. By day, he would take her to all his special places in and around Muleshoe. And in the evenings, they would sit in front of the fireplace in her cabin and talk. She would work on her stories and he would read them.

And later, as night closed in around them, they would kiss and touch. Although she'd been certain that they would become lovers, Joe had been careful not to push them forward too fast Just when it seemed there would be nothing else to do but make love, Joe would smile sweetly and kiss her good-night, leaving her to wonder why he insisted on waiting.

Mary Ellen clapped her hands in delight, snapping her back to reality. "Oh, that's so sweet! It's like destiny, isn't it? Like that old film with Gary Grant and that French actress. Only they met on a tropical island and this is Alaska. And he wasn't a pilot. But it was so romantic."

"Does he feel the same way about you?" Linda asked.

"I don't know," Perrie replied. "To be honest, I'm not real familiar with all of this. I mean, I've never been in love before. And I don't think any man has ever been in love with me. I've had relationships, but they've never made me feel this way."

"Joe Brennan is definitely a good catch," Allison said. "He's got a successful business, he's handsome, and I bet he kisses like a dream."

Perrie sighed. "Yeah, like a dream."

"What makes you think you're in love with him?" Linda asked.

"At first, I wasn't sure. But then, after I thought about it, I realized it was something really silly. That's why I wanted to ask you."

"It's his eyes, isn't it?" Allison asked. "He's got those incredible blue eyes."

"I bet it's because he's a pilot," Mary Ellen ventured. "Pilots are so dashing and brave."

"It's because he likes the way I write."

The three women stared at Perrie, a trio of confused expressions directed her way.

"I-I wrote this story about a family of wolves that he took me to see. And I combined it with a story about a family living in the bush. I didn't think it was anything special, but Joe thought it was. And now he takes me to ail these special places and he asks me to write stories about them. And then we… read them together."

"That's it?" Allison asked.

"No, not completely. I've always worked hard at my job, but no matter what I accomplished, it never seemed to be enough. There was always this vague ambition that I had to satisfy, another goal just out of my reach. But when Joe says that he likes my stories, that's enough. That's all I really need. Suddenly a Pulitzer doesn't seem to matter anymore."

"He respects you," Linda said. "And he's proud of you. That's a wonderful thing."

Perrie smiled. "It is, isn't it? It's so strange, but I feel as long as he believes in me, that's enough." She ran her fingers through her hair and groaned. "At least, I think it is. How am I supposed to know? I've been away from my work for so long, I can't be sure. Maybe I don't love him at all. Maybe I'm just bored and he's a convenient distraction."

"You don't have to decide right away," Linda said. "You've got time."

"But I don't!" Perrie cried. "Sooner or later, I have to go home. I have a career to think about, and if I stay away much longer, I won't want to go back. What if I stay and then I find out I'm really not in love? Or what if I go back home and realize that I am?"

Mary Ellen reached over and patted Perrie's hand. "There, there, don't get so upset. I think you should follow your heart. When the time comes to decide, you'll know."

"She's right," Linda said. "Listen to your heart. Don't analyze this like one of your newspaper stories. Don't try to look for all the facts and figures. Just let it happen the way it happens."